The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

A busy street on a nice , sunny , lazy day . I am strolling around , doing nothing in particular when I hear loud rock music. There´s a big crowd gathered around a band playing live on a street corner. For lack of something better to do , I join the crowd . The music is good , but too loud , and my brain soon starts dancing around inside my skull.

I´m thinking of leaving. Suddenly , out of the crowd steps an old woman , perhaps 80 years old , and perhaps a bit drunk . She starts dancing to the music , with incredible energy and grace . I decide to stay and watch . Most of the crowd is laughing at this woman . I am truly admiring her . If I ever get to be that old , that´s how I´d like to be . The band stops playing , the woman stops dancing , and the crowd dissolves . I finally leave , thinking that one more day has been seized , and that I have witnessed a rare thing .

Ahí viene otra vez, la abridora de latas... Menos mal, porque ya teníamos hambre... Además, estábamos empezando a preocuparnos por Ella... No viene muy a menudo, pero sobrevivimos, porque hay más gente como ella que nos trae comida y agua. Bueno, como Ella exactamente no. Ella es única. Cuando viene, nos habla con sus ojos grandes, bastante parecidos a los de mi especie. Nos conoce a todos, sabe nuestros verdaderos nombres, y reconoce en todos nosotros el cariño que no encuentra en los seres de su especie, los humanos.

Creo que debería presentarme: me llamo Bast, y soy un magnífico espécimen de Felis Catus. Un gato. Pero no un gato callejero... Soy un gato universitario, igual que mis hermanos y hermanas. Tenemos el privilegio de vivir en el campus de una universidad, lo cual tiene sus ventajas... Los estudiantes a menudo se sientan en el césped en los días de sol, comparten sus almuerzos con nosotros y nos acarician, lo cual a algunos de nosotros nos gusta, pero a los más tímidos les provoca un cierto recelo. Pero no con Ella. Ella nos necesita, y nosotros lo sabemos.

Nunca la vemos con nadie. Siempre viste de negro, acentuando la palidez de su cara de duende. Se desliza como una sombra, y pasaría desapercibida de no ser por sus cabellos, largos y tan negros como mi propio pelaje. Pero es su expresión lo que nos atrae y nos desconcierta a la vez. Muchas veces, mis hermanos y yo hemos debatido largamente sobre los sentimientos que yacen bajo esa expresión. Astaroth, el viejo tigre gris, está convencido de que es tristeza, mientras que mi hermana Bethshebah opina que es dolor. Taggort el Sordo, uno de los gemelos blancos, piensa que es miedo y su hermano Baphomet se decanta por la soledad... Yo creo que probablemente es una mezcla de todo eso, mezclado con una dulzura sobrecogedora. Una vez vi lágrimas deslizándose silenciosamente por sus mejillas, pero se las secó bruscamente con las mangas de su chaleco negro.

A veces, cuando nos ha abierto nuestras latas favoritas, se sienta a vernos comer y nos acaricia. Yo tengo que admitir que siento una especial debilidad por las cosquillas en el cuello, así que me acerco siempre que puedo, y hablo con Ella. La saludo, le pregunto su nombre... Pero Ella no entiende mi lenguaje, y sólo oye “miau, miau”, y me sonríe. En varias ocasiones yo y mis hermanos hemos notado marcas en sus brazos y en sus piernas. Horribles marcas moradas que Ella intenta esconder bajo las mangas largas de sus enormes camisetas negras y bajo pantalones largos incluso en verano. Ah, pero no hay secretos para los ojos de un gato...

No se limita a traernos comida. También se preocupa cuando alguno de nosotros está enfermo o resulta herido en alguna pelea, y al día siguiente viene cargada de desinfectantes y pomadas. Cuando la abuela Dorcas se araño un ojo accidentalmente con una rama, Ella trajo un bote con agua y manzanilla, y Dorcas se recuperó enseguida.

Pero el incidente más asombroso tuvo lugar la semana pasada. Ella tan sólo conoce una parte de lo que ocurrió, y me gustaría tanto que pudiera entenderme para contarle el increíble final...

Era un día de lluvia y frío. Apenas había gente en la universidad, ya que era la semana de exámenes. Niru el Magnífico, un gato enorme que es una leyenda por derecho propio en esta comunidad por ser el que más gusta a los humanos, salió temprano de debajo de un seto con cara de no encontrarse bien. De hecho, tenía un aspecto horrible: su nariz y su lengua estaban absolutamente blancas, su pelo estaba todo enmarañado y mate, tenía arcadas, y respiraba con dificultad. Todos nos reunimos a su alrededor, intentando averiguar lo que le había pasado para ver si podíamos ayudarle. Pero Niru no podía hablar, y nos dimos cuenta de que probablemente, había gastado su séptima vida. La opinión general era que se había envenenado con un cebo para ratas. Un final bastante indigno, además de lento y doloroso. Como pudimos, lo ayudamos a refugiarse de la lluvia bajo un árbol. Pronto empezó a retorcerse y a maullar de dolor, y, al cabo de varias horas, se quedó quieto y con la mirada perdida, aunque aún respiraba. Todos estábamos tristes y asustados por Niru. Yo llegué a desear su muerte para que parase de sufrir...

A media tarde, llegó Ella, con sus latas de comida y con su cara pálida. Corrimos hacia Ella, esta vez no debido al hambre, sino porque queríamos avisarla de que Niru estaba enfermo. Yo se lo repetía una y otra vez, pero Ella me miró sorprendida por mis frenéticos maullidos y me puso más comida delante. Como llovía mucho, empezó a recoger las latas vacías enseguida para irse. Ya dábamos por perdidos nuestros esfuerzos, cuando por fín se fijó en Niru, tendido inmóvil bajo el raquítico árbol. Al principio debió pensar que estaba muerto, pero comprobó que su pecho aún se movía, aunque muy levemente. Acarició la cabeza de Niru, y éste apenas reaccionó. El frío empezó a afectar su cuerpo moribundo y empezó a temblar. Ella intentó levantarlo, probablemente para llevarlo a un sitio más comodo, pero Niru, cegado por el sufrimiento de la agonía, se revolvió e intentó morderle con la fuerza que da la muerte inminente. Así que Ella se quitó su abrigo negro y cubrió a Niru con él. Se sentó a su lado, bajo la lluvia y, mientras acariciaba su cabeza, lloró de la única manera que sabe hacerlo, en silencio...La lluvia y las lágrimas se mezclaron en su cara durante bastante tiempo, y nosotros les hicimos compañía a los dos. En un momento dado, Niru empezó a convulsionarse de nuevo. Ella le miraba horrorizada sin saber que hacer, y nosotros... bueno, algunos miraron hacia otro lado porque no podían soportar ver sufrir a la niña extraña y al gato envenenado.

Pero yo no aparté la vista, y por lo tanto ví lo que pasó a continuación. Y aunque he visto muchas cosas en mi vida, y espero vivir para ver muchas más, no creo que nada me asombre tanto como lo que pasó cuando murió Niru... Porque Niru murió, de eso estoy seguro. De repente se quedó quieto, con la lengua hinchada y blanca saliéndole de la boca. Y no respiraba: tan seguro como que me gusta el atún...

Pero Ella lloraba tanto que no se dio cuenta de que Niru ya no estaba vivo. En su empeño por ayudarle, puso sus manos frías en el cuerpo aún más frío de Niru, mientras la expresión de su cara reflejaba su deseo de que Niru se pusiera bien. Yo, con mis ojos de gato que ven más cosas que los ojos humanos, vi una especie de relámpago pequeñito y azul que saltó de las manos de Ella al cuerpo de Niru, pero lo atribuí a una ilusión óptica. Ahora no estoy tan seguro...

Niru seguía sin moverse, y Ella finalmente aceptó que habia muerto. Todavía llorando, recogió su abrigo y se fue sin mirar atrás. Si se hubiera quedado un poco más , habría visto el rabo de Niru moviéndose involuntariamente, y sus ojos recuperando la chispa que la muerte les había robado. Habría visto, como vimos todos, a Niru levantándose poco a poco como si hubiera despertado de una pesadilla. Lo habría visto sacudirse las gotas de lluvia y mirarnos extrañado, sin tener ni idea de lo que había pasado... Se dirigió a nosotros y nos dijo: “¿ A qué vienen esas caras tan tristes? Ni que se hubiera muerto alguien...”. Nosotros no le contamos nada, pero pasamos el resto del día celebrándo la vida...

Al día siguiente, Niru nos fue arrebatado por segunda vez, pero esta vez no por la muerte, sino por una simpática pareja de turistas que se enamoraron de su pelaje de plata y sus ojos azules... Así le dijimos adiós a Niru el Magnífico.

Pero Ella no lo sabe. Ella piensa que Niru murió bajo el árbol en un día de lluvia. Y está triste, aunque yo intento decirle que no, que Niru está vivo y es feliz... pero Ella sólo oye “miau, miau”.

Sólo espero que cuando mi séptima vida llegue a su fín, Ella esté por aquí...Me gustaría tanto saber su nombre...

The boy woke slowly , sweetly . The sounds and smells of the forest filled his senses . He yawned and inhaled the air, green and filled with sunlight. He felt happy .

He was hungry , but that was never a problem . There were plenty of fruits and berries around , and , occasionally , he ate roots and flowers .

Jumping down from the tree that was his home , he caressed the trunk and smiled . He was a small boy . Black hair , long and tangled , framed a pale dirty little face . But he was beautiful . His eyes were as green as the grass , and had a strange animal quality about them , gentle and bewildered. .

The boy knew nothing but the forest . It was the only home he had ever known ; he felt free and powerful there . When winter came , he made small shelters from branches and leaves , and he covered his body with the hide of a dead deer he found one rainy day .

He liked to sing , his wordless songs mixed with laughter , a hymn to freedom and beauty . His voice echoed through the forest like a bell , sometimes making melodies and sounds , like mantras , sometimes imitating birds and squirrels. They seemed to answer him . He played with sticks and stones , and fashioned a drum out of a hollow tree trunk .

But some nights he dreamed , and woke in the night with his face covered in tears . In the dreams he was not in the forest . People comforted him and spoke to him with words he no longer used .

One night as he watched the sky and imagined how it would feel to touch a star, the smell of the air changed . Far away the sky was tinged with orange , and all the animals were running in a panic . The boy was afraid , the air was hot and he found breathing difficult .

He ran all night , the fire burning in the distance. Finally he fell and lost conciousness .

When he woke , everything around him was dead, burnt . He fell to his knees and wept for the first time since he had found the deer . He tried to sing , but the song sounded like a lament and made him feel sadder .

Sitting on a rock , he thought about his future . He did not want to cry anymore , although the tears still streamed down his blackened face . The boy´s heart was filled with sadness , anguish , bitterness and rage . He didn´t know what to do .

He started to walk towards the Big star. He had nothing to take with him . With a last , longing look at the forest , the boy left . . .

When he had first started to walk , the Moon was big and ripe , but now he only saw half of it . He walked through many lands , but none were as welcoming as his forest .

There were times when he met danger ; he was chased by a bear , and almost fell off a cliff . He was brave and did not cry , even when he fell on poison nettles and had a fever for two days . The first day he thought he was still in the forest , the second he slept .

Opening his eyes , he could tell he was close to a cave , although he could not remember how he had gotten there .

He smelt smoke in the wind . It frightened him . It reminded him of the night he lost his forest .

He ran blindly and bumped into something that made him fall . He saw it was a man , a human , like him , like the ones in his dreams . The man was tall and ancient , with long white hair and the pink eyes of an Albino . The man studied the boy for a few moments .

“ It´s about time you woke up , “ he said “ I didn´t think you´d survive the night . You had a high fever and you were crying in your sleep. “

The boy was surprised to learn that he could understand the words .

“ Where am I? “ , he asked with some difficulty.

“ Here , of course. I have been expecting you . “

The boy was puzzled . “ How can that be ? “

“ Don´t ask so many questions . I´ ll give you something to eat , then we will sleep . “ The old man had a commanding voice , which was strangely gentle . The boy followed him. They went into the cave and sat by the fire, eating salted meat. Later , the boy fell asleep beside the fire . The old man looked at him for a long time, without any expression in his wrinkled face.

The boy woke early , with the Sun still struggling to appear in the sky.

“ Wake up ,old man . You must answer my questions, come on, it´s morning already .“

The old man mumbled in his sleep and turned around , but the boy was persistent : “ Oh , no , you don´t. Wake up! “

“ Alright ,boy, stop shouting. What do you want?”

“ To know. I want to know. Everything. Starting from how could you have been expecting me...”

“ I heard you singing in the distance , from the mountains. I knew one day you would come ” The old man smiled enigmatically.

“ There is something else ,” said the boy, “ this place...it seems different this morning. The cave is gone , yet we have not moved. I can´t find a name for this place...It´s not a forest, nor a meadow, nor is it barren desert land... What is it?”

“ I call it the Kayal. It´s a special place. It cannot be understood , it changes constantly. You´ll get used to it if you stay...although you have no choice , the Kayal will not let you go”.

The boy did not answer.

“ Time does not exist here”, the old man continued. “ Days and nights are but mere whims of the Kayal , the living land. There is a river that runs through here sometimes, but we can´t rely on it. Its course is always changing”.

Finally, the boy said, “All this is very strange ”.

“ Yes, I know, that´s what I thought when I arrived here a long time ago. But don´t ask about that, I can hardly remember...What is your name?”

“ Name? I don´t know, I have never needed one.” “ Well, the Kayal has arranged for us to stay together for now, so I´ll have to call you something... I think I will name you Ohnaka. Once I had a faithful companion, a white wolf, and that was his name “.

The boy repeated his new name several times. “But what will I call you? “ he asked.

“ I have forgotten my name “. The old man shaded his pale eyes with a withered hand and looked towards the horizon. “ But you can call me Grandfather if you like “.

The boy, Ohnaka, smiled.

The weeks went by, and the Kayal seemed to change everyday. A vast field of blue wheat appeared one morning, surprising them both. The wheat waved in the wind.

“ What is it , Grandfather, what is it? “ Ohnaka demanded.

“ A field, of wheat and tears “.

“ Whose tears?”

“ Mine, little one”. The old man sighed.

“ But...why? “

“ Because I don´t know how to make wheat, but I sure know how to make tears. “

The old man took the boy´s hand and held it tightly. That night he looked at the child by the fire. Ohnaka was singing as he clicked two rocks together. The sound was almost hypnotic in its monotony. The man went inside the cave and brought out his flute. Ohnaka´s face lit up.

The old man played the sweet, melodious notes falling with the tears over his wrinkled face. They laughed and talked under the light of the yellow moon.

The Kayal had given him Ohnaka. The old man was happy.

The following morning, the old man woke up with a worried look on his face.

Ohnaka asked for a story.

“ I´m not a good storyteller “,said the old man, “but I will try for you. What I´m about to tell you is more than a story, it´s a lesson about the Kayal.

You already know it changes. Today we had a wonderful desert made of red and ochre sands, and yesterday the river was generous and it payed us a visit. Sometimes it snows so much that if we didn´t find a shelter, we would be buried in a white, icy grave, and sometimes, long ago, the Kayal used to bring us the Sea.

One day, only the Kayal knows when, I was privileged enough to see one of the most beautiful landscapes that anyone could ever imagine... The sky was overcast, and my eyes could look into the distance without fear. There were mountains, and cliffs, and sea, and...something small and furry next to my feet. I looked down and there it was, my little wolf cub, the only companion I had before you, and after whom you are named. He was white and soft, and very weak. I fed him as well as I could, and, with time, Ohnaka became a magnificent specimen of his race, strong and intelligent. In those days, I was much younger and I could run and play with him. We were the best of friends, and I couldn´t imagine my days without him.

But the Kayal is cruel, and if it gives you something, it´s only to wrench it from you later, to tear your heart out, leaving a vacuum that nothing can fill.

One night there was a terrible storm, and my poor Ohnaka died struck by lightning...He died instantly, turned into charcoal. I buried him the next day, and I marked his grave with a cairn, but the Kayal changed again, and I even lost my friend´s grave.

I hate the Kayal, and I´ll tell you something else, Ohnaka: I like you enough, and, since you came, my days are easier; but I don´t want your affection, and I don´t want you to expect mine, because I won´t give it to you.

Someday the Kayal will take you away from me and I would suffer too much if I got to love you. Ohnaka, the Kayal is cruel. I don´t mind sharing the cave and the food with you, but from now on, I would prefer not to be friends. It would hurt too much. Try to understand, and stop crying...”

During the rest of the day, the old man made an effort to ignore the boy, although Ohnaka couln´t stop crying. Soon came the night.

“ Goodnight, boy “.

“ Goodnight, Grandfather “.

“ Perhaps you should just call me “old man” from now on...”

“ Alright, old man, goodnight...”

The little boy cried himself to sleep. He felt a deep affection for that old man with pink eyes and moods as chanching as the Kayal itself. Ohnaka had a spark of an idea, but he drifted off to sleep before he could give it a shape.

The following morning, the old man was definitely in a rotten mood. The Kayal was a tangled jungle teeming with serpents and weeds.

“ Would you look at this mess? ”, grumbled the old man, “ Look, Ohnaka, today it will be best if you stay in the cave. The Kayal has a difficult day. I don´t know if I will find something to eat, but if I do, I´ ll save you some; now go on and light the fire “

The old man´s face was cold and bitter like the day.

While Ohnaka lit the fire, in his head he went back and back again to his idea from the previous night. It was just a theory, but he decided to test it as soon as the old man got back to the cave.

He took all day, but at last he returned, with a sour expression in his face. The boy tried to sound brave and asked:

“ Old man, why is the Kayal so horrible? “

“ It´s my home. It is not polite to speak like that of other people´s homes. Now, hush and eat. I brought fruit. “

The old man´s eyes seemed sad.

“ Thank you, old man. “

Outside, it started to rain. They ate in silence, and then Ohnaka dared to ask yet another question:

“ Old man, after the wolf, had you no other company? “

The old man looked at him, between surprised and angered, but finally he answered:

“ Once I planted sunflowers, but they wouldn´t stop screaming, so I had to let them go “.

“ Was that when you were sad about your wolf?”

“ Why so many questions? But if you must know, yes, it was soon after my dear and only friend passed away. You, on the other hand, are nothing to me but a pain. Why can´t you keep quiet? “.

Ohnaka ignored the old man´s last sentence and sat by the fire. After a while , he simply said:

“ I´m sure your wolf never even loved you “

The old man´s face turned purple with rage. Outside, a great big storm was brewing.

“ How dare you!! Shut up, boy! “.

“ Well, I could be wrong...After all, you cared a great deal for him. It´s possible that he returned your affections. Probably you spent some good times together...”

The old man´s face softened.

“ Yes, that´s right “

Outside, the storm lost some of its fury and a timid sun ray peeked between the clouds.

“ One last question, old man, please, and I promise I won´t bother you anymore tonight: what happened the night when your wolf died? I mean, before the storm...”.

“ I don´t remember easily. You forget my mind isn´t as nimble as yours...I think it was the night the Sea came back, and it brought a vessel with it, with about fifteen men on board. I am not fond of men. They destroy everything and they are too noisy. “

Ohnaka noticed that outside the rain had returned softly. The old man kept talking:

“ One of the men saw my wolf and alerted the others. Their gestures told me they were planning on hunting my Ohnaka. I was furious “.

The boy looked outside and checked that the storm had returned in all its strenght. He concentrated on the old man again.

“ After that, everything happened very quickly: the storm, the lightning, my dead wolf... The Sea dissappeared with its darned boat, never to return again. Sometimes, I miss the waves, but I don´t think I would like the Kayal to bring the Sea again “.

Outside, the storm calmed down with the old man´s wrath and his memories.

“ Old man, now I´m sleepy and I want to rest. I will need a good night´s sleep, because tomorrow I will need to be awake. I would like to talk to you about something that, if i´m right, will help us a lot. Will you want to listen to me? "

“ Tomorrow? We will see. Now, sleep, boy, and remember, no more questions “.

“ Promised. “

It was very cold, so they rubbed their hands together until they started a fire. Soon, their tears mixed as they slept side by side.

This time, it was the old man who shook Ohnaka gently to wake him up.

It wasn´t even close to dawn, but he was curious...

“ Boy, speak your mind, if it´s so important.”

Ohnaka rubbed his green eyes with his dirty little hands and looked into the old man´s face.

“ Old man, to talk to you today, I´ve decided to call you grandfather, although you might not like it. It´s only approppiate. Now please sit down and listen.”

“ I´m listening.”

“ Well, Grandfather, you are a poet, the best of them all, and you don´t even know it. Poets make efforts to reflect their feelings on parchement, but you can do better then all of them together. You´re not even concious of the greatness of your work. Without any efforts, all your feelings are reflected all around you, in Nature itself! I don´t know how you do it, but it´s a gift.”

“ What do you mean? “

“ That you are the Kayal, or rather that you and the Kayal work together in a sort of symbiotic union. I´ve been watching you, Grandfather, and the changes in your mood are just like the changes in the Kayal. Your moods and feelings determine the changes in the weather and the landscapes in the Kayal. The Kayal doesn´t control you; you control it, but you didn´t know it...And, Grandfather, your wof´s death was an unfortunate accident. Your anger towards the men caused the storm, but you shouldn´t blame yourself for the lightning that ended your friend´s life. Look inside your heart and you´ll know it wasn´t your fault.”

“ I think it will be difficult, but I will try.”

“ I will be with you. What do you say, Grandfather? “

“ That you can call me that anytime. You´ve earned it. But...what´s that in the distance? It seems to be moving...”

“ I can´t see clearly that far. Let me go check it out. I´ll be right back!”

“ Be careful!”

Minutes later,Ohnaka cradled in his arms a white wolf cob with fur soft as feathers. The old man´s heart jumped with joy, and blue flowers started to rain down from the sky. Ohnaka laughed and played with the wolf cub on the soft green grass.

“ It´s a girl, Grandfather. What will we call her?”

“ How about Khrina? That was my mother´s name...”

“ Sure. Grandfather, do you love me yet? “

“ What do you think, my son? “

And the two of them laughed amongst the blue flowers, while Khrina licked the old man´s wrinkled face.

The next day, the Kayal brought the Sea...